


a toast to innocence, a toast to now

by INTPSlytherin_reylove97



Series: OneShots [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, California, California is Insane to drive through, Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Road Trip, College Student Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Mentions of Dropping Out, Road Trips, Travel, Writer Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 01:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INTPSlytherin_reylove97/pseuds/INTPSlytherin_reylove97
Summary: As a favor, Ben Solo picks up family friend, Rey Kenobi, for the winter holidays.A long car drive with a near stranger changes perspective and maybe, hearts.Holiday Roadtrip AU.*~*~*“Can I turn on the radio?”“I thought you were listening to music on your phone,” he quipped back, his petulant frown deepening.Unphased by his remark, Rey sat up straight and adjusted her seat. “I was, now I am not. Can I turn on the radio?” she asked again, though this time firmer.“No,” Ben answered simply, flicking on his signal as he merged onto the I-405. He continued until he reached the carpool lane, then shutting off his blinker. Smooth sailing—hopefully.She stared at him, surprised by the defiant ‘no.’ “Why?"“Because only Christmas music is playing, and fucking hate Christmas music.”





	a toast to innocence, a toast to now

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD THIS TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE AND NOW IT IS A MASSIVE ONESHOT.
> 
> I told myself this would be a 9k oneshot, MAX. Clearly, I love lying to myself. But also I love Christmas and Reylo and it was WORTH IT.
> 
> The title comes from the Dan Fogelberg song "Same Old Lange Syne". 
> 
> SOME MAJOR INFO TO COVER: Rey and Ben are traveling from one end of California to the other--we find out why this particular way in the fic. For some context I recommend looking at a map of California--they are essentially traveling from San Diego area ALL THE WAY UP TO Mount Shasta area. If you know California, you will cringe and cry and shake your head at Ben's planning the entire time, hahaha
> 
> Also there is a little playlist for this fic! [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/07jodQcbT8gx0xhmwzzYby)
> 
> Typos will be fixed at a later date!
> 
> Enjoy! :D

“ _Once again that was_ Last Christmas _by Wham!, a classic to those old and—”_

Grumbling, Ben shut off the radio. At this point, he’d been on the road for two hours and the ‘80s holiday hit had played at least five times in the last forty minutes. Don’t get him wrong, he liked George Michael as much as the next person, but there needed to be a limit to how many times the song was played.

Shaking out his shoulders, he picked up his orange paper to-go cup. Cold, bland-tinged coffee slipped past his lips, Ben’s nose scrunching in distaste. In his hurry, he decided to pick up the largest cup at the 7-Eleven three blocks from his cabin retreat; he now regretted not taking the time to make his own brew. Glancing at the time, he checked the phone GPS again.

Another twelve miles until he reached Resistance University.

Another twelve miles until he could get out of his damn car and wake up his legs again. Three in the morning was an ungodly hour to hit the road and this trip was no exception. Flicking on his blinker, he turned down the freeway exit, the sun peaking unabashedly through the passenger side window. A few more minutes and streets passed until he reached his next turn, driving up to the school’s gate. He knew Resistance University well enough, his mother and uncle’s alma mater, but had never visited the campus except for one failed attempt when he and his dad when on a college roadtrip back in ’05. The two ended up getting caught in the grapevine mudslides and spent half the trip in a motel while the car was in the shop for repaired. Unanimously it’d been decided it wasn’t worth it to take the drive south to see a little private college tucked into the hills of nowhere.

Rolling down the window, he stuck his head out to the security guard, “I’m here to pick up a student.”

The stern faced woman raised an eyebrow. “Which student? I need a name, we only allow those we were notified of to enter the campus.”

“Seriously?” He squinted at the woman. “I am just picking someone up—what if I was Lyft or an Uber? Would a student need to call the gate to let them know? That’s cult status right there. ”

She pursed her lips, not in the mood to argue over policies at five-fifteen in the morning. He didn’t blame her; he just found the entire situation begrudging due to lack of sleep. He sent in his final draft at eleven-twenty-five the previous night, right before his deadline. Honestly he was asking for death at that moment.

“Name of student?” The woman repeated, disinterested in his mildly dazed yet perturbed expression.

“Rey Kenobi, she’s a junior—” He frowned, unsure how old the girl actually was, “—I think.”

“You think?” She said slowly, as though talking to a five year old.

Ben rubbed his eyes, remains of sleep creasing. “ _I don’t know_! I am only picking her up as a favor because my family can be overbearing and they think just because we are talking now I can do things like pick up a family friend’s granddaughter because ‘hey, Ben you are on your way up already.’ I haven’t even seen this girl since she was what—” He blinked, eyebrows scrunching tightly; god, it’d been ten years. “Since she was nine, ten. All I know is I am picking her up and—”

“Sir, I don’t need to know your life story, I just needed a name,” the woman said, handing him a bright yellow parking pass, “Here, it is valid for thirty minutes. She lives in the Ahch-To building, just down this road. Please leave me alone,” she deadpanned.

“Right,” he huffed, taking the little square of paper and tossing it to the corner of his dash, “Thanks,” he muttered sheepishly, before driving forward past the lifting gate.

Passing a few well groomed trees, Ben pulled into the first available parking spot. Picking up his phone from its holder on the dash, he typed out a quick text to the phone number his mother sent him the day before.

_ Ben _

_This is Ben, I’m outside. Hurry, we have a schedule to keep._

** Rey **

**What—it’s like 5AM.**

**How are you even here already?**

_ Ben _

_Like I said, schedule._

_And why are you complaining? You are the one awake too._

** Rey **

**Whatever.**

**I’ll be down in two seconds.**

A few moments later, a girl decked out in an oversized beige sweater and dull blue knit cap came outside, a large duffle slung over one shoulder and a canvas backpack on the other. Deciding to be polite, Ben got out of the car and popped open the trunk. As she came closer she looked more like the girl he knew in adolescence; light, spatter freckles on her cheeks and sharp hazel eyes. Those eyes use to shine with glee when she flicked his ears or called him silly little names, not quite understanding she was not playing a game, but being rude. Not that children understood such a concept, with their lack of fliters and all.

Ungracefully, she dropped her duffle in the back without so much of a greeting before heading straight to the passenger side of the car.

“Okay,” he muttered, slamming the back shut. “It’s going to be one of _those_ trips.”

He went back to the driver’s side and buckled back up. Sparing her a glance, Ben noted she was already buckled in and ear buds firmly placed. Ah, classic young adult move to avoid talking. He didn’t want to tell her he could tell there wasn’t any music playing from her phone, but he’d let the girl be a girl. He’d been hoping for minimal conversation; Ben wasn’t too sure what to say to someone he technically grew up with but honestly never had any type of relationship with despite the fact.

Putting his car in reverse, he drove back down the road and waved a polite goodbye to the woman at the gate. She shook her head with an eyeroll; nice to know their brief displeasure was symbiotic. Turing back down to the freeway entrance, Ben set his GPS for Naboo.

He glanced at the clock—five-forty.

It took _at least_ seven hours to get to Naboo from Resistance University. Hopefully, if traffic is forgiving they’d be able to make it into town by two in the afternoon—

“Can I turn on the radio?”

“I thought you were listening to music on your phone,” he quipped back, his petulant frown deepening.

Unphased by his remark, Rey sat up straight and adjusted her seat. “I was, now I am not. Can I turn on the radio?” she asked again, though this time firmer.

“No,” Ben answered simply, flicking on his signal as he merged onto the I-405. He continued until he reached the carpool lane, then shutting off his blinker. Smooth sailing— _hopefully_.

She stared at him, surprised by the defiant ‘no.’ “Why?”

“Because only Christmas music is playing, and I fucking hate Christmas music.”

Okay—maybe that was lie. There were a couple of Christmas songs Ben enjoyed, however they were rarely played. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rey open the glove compartment.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for an aux-cord; please tell me you at least have an aux-cord,” she droned, unamused by his curmudgeon attitude. “I’d be severally disappointed if you didn’t. Mostly because it proves you really are out of touch with your generation.”

“All I have are old receipts in there,” he said, picking up his cold coffee, sipping the last of the remains. They were going to need to make a stop once they got past Orange County because there was no way Ben would be able to stay awake for another few hours without more coffee.

She closed the compartment, sitting back with her phone on her lap. Her face remained neutral, in fact for the last thirty minutes her expression stayed blank. Perfectly guarded, or disinterested. It was difficult to decipher. As a child, Rey was open—too open. Shared too much and didn’t know the concept of a poker face. The girl—well, young woman—before him seemed to be the exact opposite. Slightly unnerving to see her with an older version of a face he knew but did not recognize.

He wonder if she had these thoughts as well, only of him.

Awkwardly, Ben cleared his throat. “If you asked nicely, I would have told you the car has Bluetooth.”

Her head tilted to him idlily, she capturing his profile in a stare. “I thought you were just being dick and planning on holding us hostage to silence.”

“I mean, I can if you want,” his lips twitched, fighting for a smirk, “I’m not someone who is afraid of silence.”

“Bold of you to assume I am,” she pressed the button on the radio to switch to Bluetooth, her phone connecting moments later.

Classic rock played low, enough to fill the space while not being distracting. She hummed off key to a few songs, her fingers tapping out the rhythm on the middle consol. The large soundstages and news buildings of Burbank passed by as Ben continued to drive down the slowly building traffic freeway. Already nearing seven in the morning, the Los Angeles morning traffic came to full fruition, the two not even reaching Pasadena before getting stuck in snail pace, bumper to bumper driving.

Sighing in frustration, Ben rubbed his forehead. He leaned back in his seat, knowing they probably wouldn’t move for another hour and half. Maybe two.

Oh, no way would they end up getting in by two in the afternoon. They’d be lucky if they made it by five.

“Leia never mentioned where you were coming from. She just said you’d be pick me up,” Rey spoke up after about five minutes of sitting in unmoving traffic.

He licked his lips, turning to look at her. Might as well be courteous and indulge her. “A little place just off of San Diego.”

“You live in San Diego?” Her face pinched in disbelief, not quite believing someone like him would live in the area. Ben understood that well; he was rather reserved and a little uptight, not to mention is entire wardrobe spanned black, white, and grey.

“What? God, _no_. I was at a writing retreat. Spent three weeks working on my book; need to clear my head and get work done without distractions.”

Her eyebrows pinched, puzzled by this news. “I thought you were a lawyer in L.A.—”

“Technically I was a paralegal in Newport,” he clarified, already accepting the fate of his former career, “Now I am a broke author who lives in the Monterey-area.”

“Quarter-life crisis?”

“Those are thing?” Ben cringed, knowing he did basically experience a mid-life crisis and career change in his late twenties. “I guess,” he mumbled, not really sure of himself. “Anyways—” He glanced at her, quirking an eyebrow at her folded legs. She sat completely improper in the passenger seat. Turning to him, she challenged him with her own striking stare. Ben faced forward again, hands on the steering wheel despite knowing he wasn’t going to be doing any other driving soon. “Isn’t Resistance University a difficult school to get into,” Why the hell was he making himself sound stupid? Ben knew R.U. was one of the top private schools in the country, working himself to bone to get accepted into his family’s coveted alma mater. “—are you like a child genius or something?”

“You do know I am twenty-one, right?” she said instead. “How can I be a child genius if I am not a child?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Ben wracked his brain for any information he remember of the university. “What do you study?”

“Philosophy,” she answered quietly.

“Seriously?” He gapped with a chuckle, leaning to the door to get a better look at her.

Dusty pink began to grace her cheek, she throwing off her knit cap into her backpack under the pretenses of feeling warm. Obviously not warm of _embarrassment_. The girl was too prideful for something like that.

“Yes,” she said, chin held high. “I study Philosophy—what so wrong about it?”

“Everything,” Ben breathed, “Take it from me—a person who has a philosophy degree, you are going to make your life miserable.”

Wordlessly Rey shrugged, shaking out her flat hair.

“I’m fine with it. My grandfather and Luke both studied philosophy—”

“Just because your elders studied it, doesn’t mean you need to,” he interrupted sharply. “Do what you want to do,” he mumbled after a moment of silence.

An indignant scoff left her. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She turned to him, eyes blazing furiously. “I am just going to be straight forward—I don’t like you Ben Solo. In fact, I _loathe_ you.”

“I take back the child genius remark; you have to lack some common sense to tell that to the person who is driving you back home,” Ben nearly sneered, but withheld just an ounce. He was the adult; adults did not sneer or cave into childish remarks.

At least that’s what he tried to tell himself as he felt her glare burn into his skin. Hazel apparently burned just as harshly as iron.

“I don’t like you,” she repeated ferociously, nostrils flaring ever so slightly. “You abandoned your family and went off to be some high and mighty lawyer with one of the most awful men in existence in the political world—a man your mother ran against for governor—all for what?” His skin crawled as her words ran ramped inside the car. The girl thought she knew everything, what was right, what was wrong—she’d always been a little know it all, but this was simply imposing and naive. “Glory? _Money_? I hope you know you are a selfish _monster_ —"

“I know I am,” he growled back, matching her fierce, unrelenting gaze.

Surprisingly, she didn’t shrink back, however her fiery flicker of sureness diminished into embers of confusion.

The air in the car felt stiff. Ben astonished, possibly impressed by Rey’s willingness to stand toe to toe an relinquish her inner, negative, thoughts on him. Meanwhile she appeared to be puzzled by his immediate answer and acceptance of her spitting insult.

Realizing how close they were, Ben turned back to the wheel, periodically checking his mirrors.

Still bumper to bumper traffic.

“I…I don’t understand,” she breathed, her eyes trained carefully on him.

“You don’t need to,” he said defiantly, leaving little room for argument or discussion.

Of course, the determined girl wedged another question into the space.

Schooling her features, she turned away from him, her gaze landing on the top of the car in front of them. “You…why do you hate your parents?”

“Who said I hated my parents?” Ben snorted out of disbelief. “I don’t _hate_ my parents. We simply didn’t see eye to eye. If I hated my parents, I wouldn’t be coming home for the holidays or picking up their bratty neighbor along the way.”

She bristled at the remark, but remained mum.

“Only people who have actually interacted with me and dealt with my stubborn bullshit and blunt assholery have the right to say they don’t ‘like me’—hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you don’t necessarily meet the criteria.”

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she tilted her head to him with mild interest. “Last time I checked, I witnessed the aftermath of you leaving and ceasing contact with your parents—they love you—”

“I know, and I don’t deny I love them. Doesn’t fucking mean I _like_ them,” he said without malice, as though his words were a fact. “Do you like your grandfather all the time?”

She exhaled exasperatedly, already seeing where he was going with this. “Of course not—”

“Thus I prove my point.” Reaching forward, he carefully reclined his seat back to a somewhat laying position. “Wake me up once the cars start moving.”

“Why not just let me drive if you are so tired?” she stated with a hint of annoyance.

“Nope,” he said immediately, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes closed. “My car, I drive.”

“You are not supposed to fall asleep at the wheel,” she said pointedly, checking in anyone noticed them from the windows.

Nope, other drivers were on their phones or talking with the person in the car with them.

“And technically traffic is not supposed to exist on a freeway, yet here we are.”

She didn’t argue him there.

Tucking her feet under herself, Rey lifted her chin and observed the surroundings outside the car. Not entirely a scenic view, they were somewhere between Burbank and Pasadena, where warehouses and large malls blended together to make a plethora of vague, grey and sandy brown buildings.

“Why do people even move to L.A.? It seems so…hectic,” she mumbled miserably, forehead hitting the window.

“Because it is hub,” Ben said matter-of-factly, “Business, glory, money—everyone is—how’d you put it, _selfish monsters_?”

Pursing her lips, she rolled her eyes. “Ha, _ha_ you’re funny,” she deadpanned, not sparing him a glance. “Even though I am down here, I never go anywhere too far from campus.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said, his eyes closed, but his mind hyperaware of her. After her offering of driving, he didn’t necessarily trust her to not pull a fast one on him. The girl had a reckless air about her behind the sheen on innocence she wore so well. It unnerved him.

She picked up her phone again, clicking through the songs until she found one she liked more than the others. “Where did you go to school?”

“University of Mustafar.”

“Didn’t it shut down?”

“Yup, two years ago.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“No, not really.”

A lapse of silence filled the car.

The opening synthesized and acoustic chords of Joy Division’s _Love Will Tear Us Apart_ began to hum in the car.

“Can you turn it up a little? I like this song,” he asked quietly, scrubbing his face for any lingering sleep fighting for dominance. Sitting up, he adjusted his seat again—a nap was just not going to happen right now.

“You liking a song? What a concept.”

Despite her comment, she turned up the music.

She regarded him curiously. “Isn’t Joy Division a little old for you?”

“Isn’t it a little old for you, fetus?” He shot back, keeping his eyes firmly on the unmoving road.

The palm of his hands lightly tapped out the steady beat of the song. He went through a eighties punk phase—didn’t everyone? Also, he was introverted and private, but he didn’t live under a rock. He knew how eighties music was gaining traction again for some reason.

“Please stop referring to me as a child—I can vote, drink alcohol, and drive,” she said stubbornly.

“That’s what you consider being an adult is? Then you need to go back and talk to your philosophy professors, because that is not it,” he shook his head, chewing hard on his lips. Giving her break from his hackling, he shrugged. “I don’t even consider myself an adult. So in a way, I am insulting myself while I am insulting you.”

“You are _insufferable_.”

“Better to be insufferable than complacent.” His witty remark did not go unmissed.

An astonished grin teased on her lips, trying to figure out the right words to say since he had one for every instance. “You really were a philosophy major, because that is _such_ a philosophy major thing to say. It’s fucking annoying.” She untucked her legs, sitting right in the passenger seat for once, “See I did the thing where I insult myself when I insult you.”

“I see,” he muttered as he opened the middle consul. He pulled out his sunglasses, the sun hitting his line of vision uncomfortably. He shut the compartment and slipped his sunglasses on.

“It’s an acquired skill,” she continued in mocking haughty attitude.

“I’m aware.”

The car in front of them finally inched forward. Then a bit more, and a bit more, and…they were going to be stuck driving fifteen miles per hours, but it was progress. A large bout of silence fell between them once again, Ben focusing on the road due to the traffic’s turbulent nature while Rey continued to play music, occasionally skipping a song or two.

Her musical tastes were eclectic but simple to say the least. Mostly stayed in the realm of rock, venturing into some pop or punk but never too far from its origins. Oddly enough, he could not complain about her selections, knowing them well himself.

It wasn’t until they made it past the hurdle of major traffic did the inevitable question get asked.

“When are we stopping for food and bathroom break?”

“Not until after the Grapevine.”

“That’s another hour and half, maybe two hours,” Rey said, checking the her own maps app on her phone. “Is there nowhere else to stop?”

Ben glanced at her, eyebrows furrowed. He knew California well enough to know it was better to wait to get on the other side of the Grapevine and hills before making a stop. “Have you never taken this drive?”

“I always flew, never drove. I mean, who wants to drive all the way up near Shasta from the Oceanside area?” She winced then realizing that was exactly what Ben was doing. “Do you like self-punishment?”

“No, I hate flying,” he answered bluntly.

“But your dad was a pilot—he taught you _how_ to fly. Why would you hate flying?”

“How do you know so much about me?” He asked instead, keeping his eyes locked on the road. He’d have to merge soon. “I mean, I haven’t seen you in over ten years and here you are throwing this information at me like poisonous darts—you know nothing about me, just like I know nothing about you.”

“I know enough,” she bit out, crossing her arms over her chest. “I remember enough as well—”

“Yeah, in distorted kid memory,” he scoffed. A smirk formed on his lips; if she wanted to judged him based off of bias and assumptions, then he could do the very same to her. “Do you want me to tell you what I know about you?”

Her jaw locked, “Fine. _Go ahead_ ,” she gritted out.

“Last time I saw dear little Rey Kenobi, she was nine, had braces, and loved _High School Musical_ a little too much for comfort.” She remained silent, however the fumes of her anger spiked the air in the car. “She annoyed the crap out of me because she always wanted to play outside, and I do not like playing outside. She was a pest and know-it-all, correcting everyone on technological terms—its was like ‘we get, you are genius Rey, no need to rub it in,’” her lips pursed, as she held the armrest on the door tighter, yet she did not respond. He took this as a signal to continue. “She was a suck-up and teachers pet, wanted everyone to love her no matter what because her own parents _didn’t_.” The heat of his words died before he finished, ending with a merely solemn tone.

She turned away, staring directly out the window. He couldn’t see her face, and maybe that was good thing. Ben had a way with words, specifically a _lack of_ empathy. “You are an arsehole,” she muttered through an overwhelmed choke of unshed tears.

“I know I am,” he said without malice, “But so are you.”

“No, I’m not!” She practically shouted back, sitting forward once more. Her eyes were red, but she did not cry. Too prideful for that apparently.

“Yeah, you kind of are—making assumptions and accusations. I am well versed in assholery and you are quintessential.”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

“Eh—you’re kind of young for me—”

“Ughh!” She growled, throwing her head back against the seat. “Do need to have a response for everything, why can’t you take insults like a normal person and be _ashamed_ —”

“I have nothing to be ashamed of and I don’t need some kid telling me how to live my life!”

“It’s called decency!”

“It’s called _hypocrisy_!” His voice boomed in the car, not bothering to look at her.

They were already halfway through the hills, most of the road empty on a Wednesday mid-morning. Checking to see if there were any lingering highway patrol, Ben picked up the speed, going through the Grapevine quicker than usual. The fast he got through this area, the faster he and Rey could get out of the car and part ways for maybe a good thirty minutes.

“I just don’t…” she huffed, her voice not quite apologetic, but resembling a kin of remorse. “I just don’t understand you.”

“I’m not something to decipher.”

“But, you kind of are,” she admitted, playing with the hem of her sweater sleeve. “You’re _Ben_.”

“Just saying my name is not going to tell me what you mean,” he goaded, taking off his sunglasses. He tucked the glasses in to the collar of his shirt. “You have to do this thing called elaborate—”

“Can you please not be dick for two seconds and let me talk?” She raised her eyebrows, completely unamused by his flickered brash attitude. Ben nodded once; Rey continued. “What I mean is, you are Ben— Han and Leia’s son, Luke’s nephew. You are named after my grandfather and everyone fucking adores you despite all your flaws and selfish mistakes,” she glanced at him, earnest hazel eyes piercing into him. “Just because you stopped talking to them for a better part of a decade, doesn’t mean they ever stopped talking about you.”

Oh.

He did not know that.

Reconciliation is a weird thing. Especially when estrangement is involved. Years pass and people change, but you don’t know how or why exactly they changed. What happened in the years you were gone, or they were gone…it’s memories to never experience nor understand. Yet he was trying to reconnect, _forgive_ …but clearly nothing could be forgotten. _Letting the past die_ — every Skywalkers was shitty at that; apparently Kenobis were too.

“And thus he doesn’t speak,” she muttered under her breath. “Who knew it be talking about your family that shut off the snarkiness.”

“No,” he said, swallowing. “Just thinking. And driving.”

“A dastardly combination,” she remarked leaning her head to the side.

Her eyes drifted to the clock on the radio. Half past ten in the morning—they’d already been in the car together for five hours, two and half of which were in standstill traffic.

“I wouldn’t have picked you up if I didn’t love my parents,” Ben spoke up after a moment. “They love you like you are the kid they always wanted—seriously, half the conversations my mother and I have involve ‘Did you know Rey is doing so well, and blah, blah, blah,” he rolled his eyes, Rey watching his with an unreadable expression. “They mentioned you didn’t get your ticket in time for the holidays, and I care about my mom and dad. They’d want you home for Christmas.” A ‘more so than me’ went unsaid between the two.

A mumbled, “Thanks,” came moments later. “For…you know picking me up.”

“Sure.”

After making it through the rest of the Grapevine Canyon in one piece, Ben turned to the next exit. An array of fast-food restaurants and convenience stores were right off the highway. He easily parked in the first slot he saw, one next to a Quick-n-Dash. For the first time in hours, he shut off the car.

A long, exhausted sigh left him.

“I told you I can drive if you want.”

“ _No_ ,” he groaned, raking a hand through his hair. Picking up his phone from the dash, he checked where they were map wise.

Not even halfway through the fucking state. So long for making it by two in the afternoon, or even a little after five. Traffic was going to put a wretch in his finely crafted schedule; he marked ever shortcut and alternate route to get to his parents within a ten hour time frame. Of course, that one highway’s reroute changed his course slightly, Ben getting to Resistance University thirty minutes behind—then the goddamn traffic. He thought he’d only have to be stuck with Rey for seven hours, if he did his calculations right. But now…now the app was saying _eight_ _hours_ from where they currently were and— _fuck_ , sometimes he hated his life.

Sitting back up, he noticed Rey watching him carefully as though he were some creature about to snap.

“Let’s…meet back here in twenty. Eat, use the restroom, whatever,” he said as he unbuckled and opened his door. “Just don’t get lost.”

“I am an—”

“ _Adult_ , I know,” he droned, punctuating his sentence with the slam of the door.

Huffing, she shut her door and followed after him. Automatically he locked the car as he trudged to towards the first coffee place he laid his eyes on, even if it was undoubtedly overpriced garbage.

Rey picked up her pace, eventually walking in time with him. He blinked down at her, surprised by her appearance. She was by no means short, average height for a woman, but _everyone_ was short in comparison to Ben.

“You know you don’t need to stick with me—”

“I know, but,” He opened the door, allowing her to go in first. She nodded in thanks. “I actually want coffee and a snack, it wasn’t my intention to _follow_ you. It was my intention to simply get in here.”

Jaw clenching, she parted ways from him, heading straight to the register while he went to the restrooms. Upon entering the small area, Ben refrained a flinch as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled from both rolling out of bed and hitting the road, but from lack of shower. Face pinching, he hesitantly sniffed under his arms.

Eh. He didn’t smell too awful, the lingering sent of his deodorant and soap from over twenty-four hours lightly masking any body-odors.

He took a moment to relieve himself and then went about washing his hands and splashing some water on his face. The cool water woke him up a little more and the brief dizziness from his lack of sleep began to numb. Leaving the restroom, he went to the register and order his large black coffee with room for cream and sugar. From his vantage point he saw Rey sitting at the corner table, her poppy seed muffin and large coffee sitting before her, untouched. A pensive shadow cascaded over her soft yet refined features, the girl appearing far more troubled than she let on in their brief spats. Her hazel eyes were dull with unforgiving thoughts, causing Ben’s throat to tighten even from his distance.

Once his coffee was handed over, he begrudgingly sat across from her.

At his presence, she sipped her drink, gaze focused on the buzzing of cars zipping through the highway.

Cautiously, he leaned back in his chair, allowing his shoulders to sag for once. With little effort he drank his coffee slowly, deciding it best to take his time to build up a tolerance for the hassle of roads ahead of him.

“What books do you write?”

“Hm?” he grunted, surprised she was even bothering to speak to him.

“You mentioned you are an author—what books do you write?”

“Fantasy,” he answered honestly with baited breath. Over time he’d grown accustom to deflated excitement or mild disappointment at his genre of choice.

Contrary to his assumption, Rey’s eyes lit up at his words.

“Anything I’ve read?” she asked. “I happen enjoy fantasy.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You enjoy fantasy?”

“Yes,” she dragged out, “That is what I just said.”

Biting his lips together, Ben considered telling her the truth. There was no harm in the truth, simply maybe a change in opinion or perspective. Actually maybe he was better off telling her the truth.

“I write the Knights of the Dark series.”

“You’re shitting me,” she said, unaffected.

Ben sipped his coffee and shrugged. “Believe or don’t, it’s true.”

A series of emotions flashed upon her face—disbelief, confusion, elation, then… _determination_.

“You’re fucking ‘Kylo Ren’?”

“I am not fucking ‘Kylo Ren’, but I am _indeed_ Kylo Ren.” He couldn’t fight off the smug smirk on his lips.

She scoffed, but leaned forward, as though if she looked away he’d disappear. “No one likes a smartass, _Ben_.”

“Takes one to know one, Rey,” he taunted back easily.

She sat back, stunned. Eyes narrowing, a betraying smile fought for dominance. “I have read all your books—”

He snorted into a waving off chuckle; he felt uncomfortable with praise, that was why he maintained a pseudonym however silly it sounded. “I only have two—I would hardly call them _all_.”

“But they are marvelous—”

His head tilted to the side in a wince. “Not quite bestsellers, but adequate.”

“I can’t believe you are a snob about your own novels,” she said finally breaking away from his gaze.

“Best to be my own worst critic than some ‘professional’ asshole on the east coast.”

His words were not sarcastic or malicious, but honest and true. While he wasn’t one to promote self-loathing, he could not help but participate in his own odd ways. Which meant writing and never being satisfied with what he wrote. Was it subconscious self-punishment? _Probably_. But better to be too humble than obnoxiously arrogant.

He glanced at his watch.

“We need to get going.”

Not bothering to complain about their short stop, Rey nodded once and followed him out. They silently climbed back into the car, the girl taking over the music duties.

Depeche Mode’s _People Are People_ started to play as he got back on the highway.

They were only on the road for three songs, the beginning of a The Smith’s song Ben could not put his finger on, before she started with the talking again.

“I need to ask…if you really are Kylo Ren and have written this trilogy—”

“Technically it is still just two books,” he corrected with a grunt.

She continued on as though he did not interrupt her. “Then why did you end the second book with killing off the majority of the characters, you aren’t going to have anyone else to continue the story with.”

She…had a point.

That’s way he experienced the worst case of ‘writer’s block in his life. Sure, he’d been writing for most of his life, on the side never as a career until all shit hit the fan and well…hey, he had that manuscript he continuously tweaked and reworked.

The rise and downfall of a young sorcerer turned vigilante knight. Clearly a story concocted by his fifteen year old mind in his fit-full emotional status. However over time the plot was constructed and full-fledged, breathing characters formed. Strangely enough he had a story.

He’d been lucky. Extremely lucky for a Skywalker, but just lucky enough for a Solo. A publisher liked his manuscript and within a few months he was going to book signings under a pseudonym to separate himself from the foolish paralegal he’d been with Snoke & Associates. Not that his name was tainted—he was clever enough to keep his name clean despite the shady workings of the firm.  

Fast forward five years and two novels, he now had book series running into a dead end. Deadlines were pushed back as far as they could go, until his editor absolutely needed a manuscript. The writing retreat helped…somewhat, to the point Ben has something. Maybe not his greatest work and maybe a bit cruel with ending on a cliffhanger.

His editor will no doubt have a word with him on that in a weeks’ time.

“That’s for me to know and for no one else to find out,” he said diplomatically, hoping Rey would drop the subject.

She didn’t.

“But how can Revan be the leader of the Knights of the Dark if there aren’t any Knights of the Dark _to_ lead—which also extremely pretentious to maintain the status of leader—”

“I’d rather not discuss this,” he stated plainly. He kept one hand on the wheel and placed his sunglasses back on his face.

In the passenger seat, Rey huffed but did not stop staring at him. Going on the 5, Ben spared an mildly exasperated glance to the girl. Her arms were crossed, lips pursed primly as she waited for him to crack.

Little did she know, Ben cracked under many things—pressure and stress the main two—but he did not crack for pouty, determined girls.

Her chin tilted up, her patience unwavering.

Nope. He did not crack.

He exhaled slowly as he began to follow the fold out of the middle of nowhere by the Tejon Valley. Cocking his head to the side, he gripped the stirring wheel tightly.

“Would you pester J.K. Rowling like this?”

“Did you _just_ compare yourself to J.K. Rowling?” she stated, her voice rising shrilly in disbelief.

A raspberry left his lips, Ben unamused by her comments. She had a way of phrasing rhetorical questions to slide right under his skin. Clever, but annoying.

“No, I am not comparing myself to her—”

She snorted ungracefully, tucking her feet back under her. “Because you’re great, but no J.K. Rowling.”

A snarl twitched for relief, Ben biting down hard on his lips to fight off the instinct.

“No, I’m _not_ ,” he replied tersely. “My point is would you pester J.K. Rowling for information on the next Harry Potter book—” he then caught the loophole and flaw in his statement. His next words came out in a rush, hoping to justify before Rey attacked with her unrelenting wit. “—and before you can say it, yes I know all the Harry Potter’s are out and this is merely a hypothetical to get you to _think_.”

Leaning back against the passenger door, Rey faced him with a transparent expression. She burrowed deeper into her oversized sweater, appearing smaller in the seat despite her average height. Humming in thought, she shrugged.

“Of course not, but I am also not stuck in a car with J.K. Rowling for who the hell knows how long.”

Okay, _valid_.

“That doesn’t mean you can ask me questions—last I recalled you told me you hated me—”

“Oh, I still do,” she said heatedly, though only her voice suggested such opinion. Her body on the other hand seemed to be relaxed as she got comfortable in her spot. “To an extent. You are driving me and you are the author of a book series I thoroughly enjoy.”

“Smart.” His compliment held little praise.

“I try.” She grinned cheekily back. “But honestly, how can you continue the series—”

He is not sure what possessed him to say the truth, but he does anyway, somehow knowing the confines of the car to be a safe space despite Rey’s presence. Maybe it was the very fact she was present.

“I’m not,” he said brutally, leaving no room for argument or cries of despair. “I’m ending it. Have nothing else to write about the universe. Got to let the past die eventually.”

A squeak of protest came from Rey before she swallowed it whole. She picked up her phone and skipped the next couple of songs before landing on _A Crazy Little Thing Called Love_ by Queen. She rested her head against the window tiredly, but did not close her eyes.

“I think you are making a mistake,” she said simply. Defiantly, she turned up the music and sang along lightly.

She could think his decision was a mistake all she wanted, but that did not mean she was right and he was wrong. He was the author for crying out loud, she was just someone who is a family friend who happened to read his books. Odd coincidence in that case, but nevertheless he did not need to take her words into account.

“Why do you think it is a mistake?”

Goddamn it. What the hell was wrong with him?

Apparently his mouth and his brain did not know how to communicate.

“Because I think a lot readers like Revan and the tragic impending fall does not make the readers feel better or satisfied with the ending,” she answered, keeping her eyes trained on her phone. She swiped idlily and tapped randomly, Ben unsure if she was sifting through music or playing a game as she spoke to him. She finally looks up after a moment, her striking hazel eyes meeting his for a moment. “Please don’t tell me you kill him off.”

Ben coughed and brought his attention back to the road.

“It’s ambiguous.”

She exhaled a quiet, “Damn.”

His fingers tightened and then loosened on the steering wheel. “He’s a villain in his own right. Villains usually die—”

“I think he’s an anti-hero,” she interrupted impassioned on the subject. “You should check the Tumblr posts and Reddit forums. It has a steady following.”

“That’s the worst thing I can do.” Go to the internet? Hell no. The internet was insane and crazy; for the life of him he could not understand why people willing gave out information, private information on these websites. Plus, he’d been a teenager invested in the fandom world while never actively participating, he knew fans were… _dedicated_.

“Okay, you are not wrong there,” she chuckled, sitting up straighter. “Don’t listen to me about _that_ , but maybe consider what you can do with Revan once he is outside of a toxic environment.”

Her words seemed to put the argument to rest, though the calmness of her response left Ben unsettled.

The stretch of highway continued on the I-5, an extremely straightforward drive that shouldn’t cause much more headache. He’d need to stop for gas soon, but he could make it a little longer since he stopped for a full tank before making it to Resistance University.

For the last hour, Rey remained silent save for her humming and sing along to the array of eighties songs she queued up. Empty land and blinks of cities lined up the highway, Ben speeding through the various little towns struck by the I-5. Occasionally, out of mere curiosity, Ben watched Rey from the corner of his eye.

Something seemed off about her the entire drive—no, from the moment he picked her up. As though she had a chip on her shoulder she couldn’t shrug off. Clearly it wasn’t her apparent hate for him.

In a faint memory his father once said girl’s liked to talk about themselves. He tucked away the information, but observed it with a grain of salt. Han Solo was not the most reliable source, if Ben’s bickering parents were anything to go by. But in this scenario Ben needed to use everything in his utility belt, and this appeared to be the best option even with his misgivings. In a stroke of selflessness, he decided to be sociable for once in his life and make a conversation.

“Do you…do you have a favorite Christmas memory?”

“Excuse me?” Rey’s eyebrows shot up, eyes lifting from her phone to his profile.

Clearing his throat, he repeated his question. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but did not fight back. Untucking her legs from under her and sitting right on the passenger seat, Rey stretched her arms from side to side. From his peripherals, he saw her oversized sweater slip down her shoulder, revealing her elegant neck and down to the base of her collarbone. Her skin was lightly tanned and freckled from sun exposure, enhancing the warmth she radiated in her smiles. A fleeting thought of how smooth or _mellow_ her skin would feel under the pads of his callous fingers drifted through his mind…

Sharply his eyes snapped to the road.

He swallowed tightly, feeling sweat prickling from the tip of his spine to the end of his tail bone.

God, _no_.

“I remember when I was nine,” she slowly started, digging through her memories. Her firm, accented voice brought him out of his less than respectable thoughts. “It was Christmas Eve and Chewie asked me to help him with the cookies that year and I—” she chuckled, rubbing away at her face as she became flushed. “Even as a kid I despised cooking or baking, but Chewie asked so I said ‘yes’ like the good little girl I was supposed to be.”

She became lost in the memory for a moment, eyes glossing over as she gazed out the window. Stress became nonexistent on her features, her eyes no longer hooded or tense, nor her jaw locked ready for battle. In her memories Rey was softer, gentler…a strange mixture of mature and innocent in a shifting waltz. One leading the other in every other count.

Playing absentmindedly with her sleeve, she continued speaking, “The cookies were awful even though I followed Chewie’s recipe and was the ‘perfect’ little helper. I knew they were awful too because everyone only ate _one_ and patted my head with a pitiful laughter.”

Ben’s lips twitched at the memory, remembering tidbits of that particular Christmas—it was the year before he left, became _estranged_ , as everyone loved to phrase. He came from his first semester of college, the air still tense from his decision to attend Mustafar than Resistance. Comments and arguments ensued at every opportunity, Chewie shuffling Rey into the kitchen to prevent her from listening in on their conversations.

Oddly enough the only people who seemed to support his decisions to do what he _wanted_ were Old Kenobi and Han. He wondered if the two men would be the protective force they’d been in his younger years when he arrived.

“…I set the cookies out for ‘Santa,’ which at that point I kind of knew Santa wasn’t real and it was one of the adults who ate the cookies at night. But I didn’t for everyone else. I expected a bite out of one and that was it.”

A bright infectious smile bloomed on her lips.

His heart did a weird stutter at the sight.

“But all the cookies were gone—whoever was ‘Santa’ that night ate all the awful cookies…and I loved that.”

As an obnoxious twist of fate, Ben was ‘Santa’ that night. As being ‘one of the adults’ for the first time, he’d been given the task to eat the Christmas cookies. He didn’t know if he was supposed to eat all the cookies or just one. In panic, he ate them all, gagging at the taste but swallowing for the sake of Rey’s big hazel eyes. He’d seen her cry once and it was enough to last a lifetime. For some reason he believed she’d crumble if ‘Santa’ didn’t like her cookies.

“Why is that your favorite memory?” He finally asked as he merged to an exit in Kettleman City. His tank was running low, preferring to stop here rather than farther ahead without a gas station in sight.

She tilted her head to the side, eyes squinting. “I…I love it because I felt loved.” She sounded perplexed by her own statement. “Not that I didn’t feel loved but it’s one of those weird things where…where we don’t remember much of out childhoods when you really think about it.” She became quiet, her expression solemn. “What is your first memory? One that you can account _clearly_.”

He balked for a moment before one finally came to mind.

“I was eight and my dad let me fly in the co-pilots seat. We promised each other we’d never tell mom because she’d never let me fly again.”

There were too many memories like that particular one. Han teaching Ben how to drive at thirteen in old back roads. Going hiking off the trail when they went on their annual camping trips, coming back late and claiming they were caught up bird watching rather than getting lost. But flying in the co-pilots seat was the strongest in the haze of promises.

“See!” Her eyes widen, gleeful yet focused. “You were _eight_ ; distinct memories that start to form us don’t really start until eight or nine. For me, being nine and seeing someone ate my cookies, my good awful cookies told me someone out there loved and cared for me enough to sacrifice—”

“You put a lot of thought into this memory,” Ben interjected as he came up to the gas station pump. He turned off the car and dug into his pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he handed Rey a twenty and a ten dollar bill. “Go inside and put twenty on two and then get snacks or whatever else you need.”

Her mouth was open to continue her rant. Probably going to explain just _how_ much thought she put into the memory. Knowing how much the little Christmas act affected her made Ben’s insides squirm.

He was just being nice and impulsive.

It was fucking _cookies_. Nothing to be pensive about.

Yet he wasn’t too sure he’d be forgetting her recount of the events any time soon. Her voice practically caressed the memory with utter devotion. It should be sickeningly sweet, Hallmark gag worth.

Despite this, Ben found it endearing. Which wasn’t a great reaction in his books either.

Snapping her mouth shut, she took the money—smart girl—before glancing down at the cup holders. “More coffee?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, unbuckling and shoving open the car door.

Cool winds picked up during their drive, the comfortable seventy degree Southern California weather no long gone. Instead blistering winds bustled through, Ben flinching. He forgot how _biting_ the cold became as he edged past the Central Valley, the area a pocket of fog or unrelenting wind.

Over the hood of the car, he saw Rey leave and enter the gas station. She walked with an air of purpose and invisibility, an acquired skill he knew well in his adolescence. It was strange to see it in someone else.

He picked up the pump and set it into his tank, pressing the right buttons. Once the tank was filled up, he put the pump away and went back into the car. Rey was already sitting in the passenger seat, holding another cup of coffee out to him.

Nodding once, he took the offered cup. Greedily he took a sip, not bothering to add any of the cream and sugar she threw into the glove compartment.

“Why the facial?” She suddenly asked, Ben choking a bit on his coffee. She ignored the hiccup, her face lighting in curiosity rather than disgust. “In all the pictures back home, you are clean shaven.”

He set the coffee in a cupholder and buckled up, unable to hide his mild offense at her comment.

“I…like not shaving,” he answered honestly.

She frowned, disappointed.

“Not everything I do has a major backstory or reason to it,” Ben gruffed, starting the car. “I am a man who does not like shaving all the time and it doesn’t hurt I look older with the facial hair.”

“Hm,” she uttered, disinterestedly. Reaching into the plastic bag, she handed him a bottle water. “You are drinking coffee, you should have water with you.”

Honestly, she was mothering him at this point. Well, then again she did spend quite some time with _his_ mother.

“I’m fine, but thanks for the thought,” he said as he started to pull out of the gas station. “Do me a favor and check the GPS—”

His phone began to ring, shrilly. An older picture of his mother popped up the screen; the one he kept from his high school graduation, lost in the depths of his Facebook albums.

Rey glanced at him, stunned as her hand hovered to answer the phone. “You have a _ring tone_?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Ben bit out, not seeing the point of her comment, before swiping the phone and tapping the speaker option. He quickly put both hands back on the wheel and sat straight. Simply answering his mother’s call caused him to be on his best behavior.

“Ben—where are you two? You said you’d be here by two o’clock and it is almost three-thirty.” Leia’s no nonsense voice came through the phone, crackling slightly with the spotty service.

Ben and Rey glanced at each other sharply. A silent argument of wills fell before them. Mutely, he nodded towards her while he waved to the steering wheel.

Slouching slightly at the implication, Rey finally spoke up.

“We got stuck in traffic back in L.A.,” she answered dutifully, glaring at Ben ever so slightly. “It set us back a few hours and it’s just been busy on the highway.”

A tired but understanding sigh came from Leia. Ben could picture her eyebrows pinching together worriedly and her mouth pressed into a firm line. Leia Organa-Solo wasn’t happy, and Rey and Ben happened to be the cause of her unhappiness.

Both shared a guilty glance.

It wasn’t like they could control the traffic!

“Well, when do you think you’ll get here? Remember you’ll have snow to contend with once you get further north,” she warned, “You did bring chains for your tires right? Because I don’t know if your father or Luke can pick you up at a lower altitude…”

“I have chains mother,” Ben huffed, getting back on the I-5. “You know what—I’m driving, talk to Rey,” he said curtly, though left the phone on speaker.

“Rey, what time do you think you two will be coming in?” Leia asked sternly, wanting the honest answer.

The girl in the passenger seat searched their ETA. A deep frown formed on her lips.

“Uh,” her eyes flickered to Ben and then to the phone on his dash. Conflict wrestled for a moment before she became resolute on the matter. “We won’t be getting in until a little after ten in the evening.”

“And _how long_ has my son been driving?”

“I’m fine,” he practically growled at the phone.

“Ben, I am talking to _Rey_ like you asked me to,” he rolled his eyes, shoving his sunglasses over his head. His hair got tangled on the sides but he did not care, more concerned on just getting this little trip done and over with. “Rey,” his mother began again, sounding complacent and sweet, though both knew better Leia Organa was working towards a goal when she used such a voice. “How long has my son been driving?”

Rey glanced at Ben, concerned for him. However the twitch of her jaw told him she was thinking and before he could ask, she spoke to his mother again.

“He has been driving since three in the morning, but we were talking right before you called and decided, it might be best if we stayed at a motel for the night since he is only running on a few hours of sleep.” Ben’s head snapped to her, gapping at her blatant, easily spoken lie. Rey…the Rey he knew was not a liar. In fact, he go as far and say she was a pathological truther. Honesty and integrity and all that jazz…which he admired and did the same, but while growing up, she never understood the reason to lie for good.

Which was another reason why he often ended up pushing her away from him.

His parents and her grandpa did not need to know everything he or she did. That was excessive and unnecessary.

Beside him, Rey whacked his arm, catching his attention.

“Uh—yeah,” he said, voice cracking. “We decided it might just be best to stop for the night in—” his eyes caught sight of a somewhat familiar city only about an hour away, “—Los Banos. Get something to eat, sleep, leave early in the morning the next day.”

“Oh, that’s rather thoughtful and mature of you two.” Leia sounded unsure of her words, but continued on nonetheless. “I thought you two would have killed each other by now, but if you want to take a break, then I wholeheartedly support you. Just let me know where you are staying when you get there okay?”

“Will do,” Rey replied brightly. “Love you Leia, bye.”

“Bye, mom,” Ben gritted out, his jaw twitching.

His mother repeated the sentiment back to them, hanging up the call seconds later.

“ _What the fuck is wrong with you_?” Ben shouted, hands gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white.

“What the fuck is wrong with _you_?” Rey yelled back, her grip on the passenger door holding her back from pouncing on him. “You’ve been fucking driving for nearly twelve hours and you look like death screwed you over and decided ‘eh, zombie life for him’.”

Her sneered insults washed over him quickly, Ben not taking the time to absorb them and quip back.

“I am _exhausted_ ,” he cried out, face bloomed into a frustrated red. Inhaling deeply, he kept his eyes on the road and the cars around him, rather than the troublesome girl in the passenger seat beside him. “And I just wanted to drive _all in one go_ and sleep in my old room and have this fucking Christmas be done and over with quickly!”

“Christmas is in three days, dipshit,” Rey exclaimed, hands flying up. She combed her pulled up hair frantically with her fingers and rubbed her eyes. Apparently she wasn’t the only one starting to get tired on this trip. “If you think getting there faster will cause the festivities to fly by faster, you are a bigger dumbass than I thought you were!”

“Oh, I am a _dumbass_ now,” Ben taunted back, brushing his hair back. His sunglasses tumbled off his head by the gesture “Nice to know I got demoted back down—makes me feel like I am on a real rollercoaster with you. See that’s what I don’t get—you say you hate me, you say you kind of like me, but I am now a dumbass—no wonder you have this aura of loneliness, you don’t fucking know your own opinions.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice dropped lower, almost dripping with disdain. “I am not some _rollercoaster_ , or hot and cold person—you are just confusing as hell!” She fell back against the seat, turning as far away from him as she possibly could without hopping out of the car. “I just…who the fuck leaves a wonderful family for years?”

“Oh, we’re back to that then?” Ben grumbled, hands drumming on the wheel. “Hate to break it to you kid, but Han and Leia were not the picture perfect parents to me. Once you get that through your thick skull maybe then we can see eye to eye.”

“You keep saying that as if it is explanation enough. Well, it’s _not_ and you can’t use it as an excuse to be temperamental. If you actually _explained_ yourself, instead of vagueness, maybe then _you_ wouldn’t be so lonely,” she said fiercely with her arms crossed and facing ahead.

Neither spoke for the duration of the ride into Los Banos. Music was not played nor any senseless noises were made. The vibrating hum of the car filled the space while their thoughts and exhaustion seeped into their bones.

Ben felt the heat and prickle of remorse the moment his harsh words tumbled viciously from his mouth. While he was the son of a politician, Ben lacked the wordsmith genes in public speaking. Saying the wrong thing at all the wrong times was an unfortunate gift that kept on giving.

As a teen he thought it was because he was simply awkward or lacked empathy.

As an adult, he realized it was because he possessed too much empathy, his thoughts and mouth unable to translate the emotions spurring chaos in his psyche.

For some reason Rey caused him to speak his mind, albeit not always fluently. Which was back firing—drastically.

Action might be his best option when it came to her far too critical eyes and sharp tongue.

Upon entering town, Ben handed Rey his phone. “Find a hotel or something. I have my credit card information saved in there.”

Wordlessly, she listened and found a chain hotel only ten minutes away from the highway. She booked a basic room easily, one with two full size beds and single bathroom. Finding the hotel, Ben parked the car. While grabbing their bags, Ben attempted to carry Rey’s but she beat him to it. She shouldered her duffle and backpack and walked ahead of him to the hotel.

Lifting his suitcase and messenger bag out, Ben watched her carefully. Every movement she made was jerky, her anger taking hold of her mobility.

For calling him temperamental, she was just as bad.

Ben followed her into the hotel and to the front desk. Checking in was easy and simple, except for one comment.

“I hope everything works out between you and your girlfriend,” the concierge whispered apologetically, apparently noticing the tense air between him and Rey.

Just as his road trip companion opened her mouth to refute the statement she caught to tail end of, Ben smiled and took the room cards. “Thanks, nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” He then turned on his heel and led a befuddled Rey to the elevator.

“Why didn’t you correct her?” she grumbled as they waited for the doors to open.

“Why am I going to correct a woman I will never see again on a matter that means nothing to her?” He then shrugged. “If you are annoyed by it, by all means go back and correct her.”

Rey rolled her eyes and faced the elevator doors, no longer wanting to engage.

He didn’t blame her. They’d been nipping and growling at each other like fools the entire day. A break was needed.

They went up three levels, finding their room towards the end of the hall on the third floor. Rey went straight to the bathroom while Ben checked out the rest of the room. Sighing, he threw his suitcase on to the bed closest to the door. The dim beside laps made it difficult to navigate the room, but gave enough light to see the mini-fridge and desk situated on the wall by the bathroom. The burgundy and green color scheme wasn’t the most welcoming but cozy enough for night’s stay.

From the window, Ben noticed the small bar across the street. It was a weekday, the area experiencing little foot traffic. He hadn’t eaten a real meal all day, just coffee and sodium riddled snacks from gas stations and convenience stores. His mother would kill him if she knew how poorly he’d been taking care of himself.

No, his mother would kill him if she found out he never stopped for food for _Rey_.

The bathroom door opened, Rey emerging with her hair pulled into three organized buns and fresh face. She dropped down to her bags by the door, searching through her belongings.

“Whatever you are planning on doing, drop it,” Ben declared, pocketing their room keycards and his keys. “We’re going to grab something to eat across the street.”

Standing back up with her toiletries tucked under her arm, Rey frowned.

“I’m fine—”

Ben was already walking to the door, not bothering to check if she’d be following. “I’ll pay for your food,” he called over his shoulder.

She hastily dropped her toiletries right on top of her duffle bag, “Well, if you insist.”

 

* * *

 

The bar was rather scarce of patrons, only a few stragglers here and there. Most of the place was a bar with a couple of booths or square tables out in the middle of the room.

Music played lightly in the room, while a nameless soccer game shined on the television hanging in the far left corner of the room, nearly out of sight if someone walked straight past the bar.

Ben sat down on one of the first barstools he laid his eyes on, Rey taking the seat to his right. The bartender, a middle aged man with a gruff in his voice, came up to them moments later, dropping a menu and asking for their drink orders.

Ben bit his lips together tightly, thinking hard. He deserved a drink after the day he had. “A cocktail and—”

“A Guinness,” Rey supplied with a smile, ignoring Ben’s flabbergasted gaze.

The bartender took their orders with a nod, disappearing to the other side.

“What?” She glanced back at him, propping her chin in her hand as she leaned against the counter.

He quirked an eyebrow, a smirk twitching on his lips. “Are you sure—”

“I can hold my beer,” she rolled her eyes, her words more of indecipherable mumbles. “I’m not a _lightweight_.” Then she smiled teasingly. “A cocktail?”

“I like cocktails,” he defended bracing his crossed arms on the counter.

Silence lapsed again, popular Christmas music filled the room.

Momentarily, Ben grimaced as Mariah Carey’s _All I Want for Christmas Is You_ began to play. In the safety of the car, they could run away from the onslaught of overplayed holiday music. Out on public, in a pub however…

Rey groaned as the high notes were reached. She dropped her forehead on to the table, cushioning her skull with the back of her hands.

At least he wasn’t alone in his suffering.

Luckily, their drinks came, both nursing them with vigor. The two ordered their food, both burgers and fries—something warm and greasy appearing to be the best option to fill their empty stomachs and tired bodies.

Talking was off the table, just drinking and eating consuming their time. Ben was half way through his third drink—something of which he probably should not have been doing—and staring at the tomato in his hamburger when Rey cleared her throat.

“I dropped out of school,” she blurted out, slightly dazed.

Ben blinked, then blanched.

He must have heard wrong.

The alcohol must be getting to his head.

Because he swore he just heard…

Guilt washed over her as she downed more of her beer. She dropped her half eaten fry, hands shaking. Her hand’s gripped the edge of the bar fearfully.

Oh dear.

Rey— _Rey_ always wanted to get out of their hometown. Even at a young age, she wanted to see more, be more. To do more than be the orphan girl raised by her grandfather. Everyone supported her. Everyone wanted her to succeed—

“That’s,” her voice croaked, “That’s why I didn’t get a ticket. I didn’t want to face everyone—Grandfather, Leia, Han, Luke,” her eyes flickered to him momentarily, “… _you_.” Tears began to pool, her words picking up pace. Hiccupped phrases tumbled over each other like a toddler’s gate, clumsy and rushed. “And then Leia said you’d pick me up—and I thought I’d have enough time to figure out how to break the news but—”

“What happened?” Ben’s soft voice and warm hand on hers ceased her ramblings.

Licking her lips, she looked down on the shiny, ploy bar top.

“I…I may have led an unauthorized protest against the Dean of Philosophy and Theology.” Her mumbles were quick and clear.

A protest? _What the hell_ —he only heard of protests at larger universities, state colleges even, not little colleges in the middle of nowhere. “Why would you even lead a protest?”

“Because I was denied from the J.E.D.I. Academy based off of my ‘gender’ and ‘radical thought’. Then the Dean blamed my radical thought on being a _woman_.”

While never attending the university, Ben was aware of their old ways and thought. His mother had ranted enough times about it when ever her alma mater was brought up. However, her major was Sociology, not Philosophy.

The Philosophy department had literal monks running the classes. Now that he thought about it, he never heard of a woman graduating with a Philosophy degree from Resistance University.

A wave of unsettling anger rested firmly in his chest as the implications and excuses fell into place.

“And you were expelled because of it?”

Despite the university’s old fashion attitude Ben did not quite believe someone like Rey, who possessed a supposedly spotless record, would be expelled for a somewhat morally led protest.

Nervously, she picked up her drink, swallowing the last of her beer.

Ben cringed feeling the desperate need for relief in her hasty drinking.

“I also may have egged his car and broke the side mirrors while I was at it,” she admitted sheepishly.

Of course she did.

“Well, that’s what did it,” Ben declared, raising his hand up to wave down the bartender. “Another cocktail please—I’m going to need it.”

A whine of despair came from the back of her throat as she stared helplessly at her food.

“Ben, I have no fucking idea what to do,” she said, eyes glossing over. “I can’t—I can’t tell them what happened—”

“Where are the rest of your things?” He interrupted, remembering she had an entire _life_ there. Her entire room and books could not fit into one duffle bag and a backpack.

“I shipped them to Finn—”

“Finn Storm, dorky kid who lives down the street?” Ben asked, trying to find a face for the familiar name.

Annoyance flashed across her features before settling back to her current default of mush and tears.

“Yes. He’s my _friend_ —but he doesn’t know what happened. He thinks I am planning on redecorating—”

Ben leaned back, face scrunched up. “He honestly bought that?”

“No,” she grumbled munching on the half eaten fry again. “But he is too kind to question.”

“And they let you finish the semester?”

“Yes,” she nodded, tucking loose strands behind her ear. “I was mostly allowed to finish because of my academic standing—I was in the top five and had been consecutively on the Dean’s List for all three years.”

Wow. She really was some kid genius.

But reckless and impulsive. No wonder the university jumped at the first opportunity to remove from the school.

Wiping a hand down his face, Ben searched for some wisdom he could bestow on the girl. As far as he knew, she wasn’t going to like anything he suggested. If he was truly being wise, he’d let her figure it out on her own, like a real adult. He wasn’t her older brother or anything remotely relative of authority to her.

He was just a guy she happened to take a rather long commute with.

But her watery hazel eyes twisted a sharp lurch in his gut.

“Here’s what you are going to do,” Ben took a deep breath, his mouth down turning. Rey sat up, ready for his advice. “You are going to tell them the truth.”

“ _What_?”

“Tell them the truth,” he repeated, picking up his drink again. He drank the rest of his cocktail in one go. “You—you actually don’t have anything to be truly ashamed of Rey, you do realize, that right?”

A shaky, frantic exhaled left her. Her hands clenched and unclenched periodically on her lap. “But I—I _dropped out_ —”

“You were expelled,” Ben corrected steadily, turning in his seat to face Rey. Following his lead, she turned as well, their knees bumping. “Better to say what it really is— _expulsion_. Dropping out implies it was your choice, expelled means there are more shades of gray.”

She played with the sleeves of her sweater, cuffing and uncuffing them. Ben resisted the urge to slap her hands away from one another. “But ‘expulsion’ implies I am a bad kid—”

“But you aren’t a kid anymore,” he interrupted her petulant train of thought harshly. For their entire trip she constantly defended she was no longer a kid. She corrected him over and over, Ben begrudgingly letting her. However, if she truly wanted to be the adult she claimed to be, she needed to own up to her actions. Even if that meant seeing the good, the bad, and the ugly of the situation. He knew her well enough to know she was strong enough to do it, even if she didn’t see it. “You are a woman who was expelled from her university a semester shy from graduating because she led a _morally just_ protest.”

Rey swallowed tightly, her shoulders rising as she took a deep breath. Her eyes held his for a moment, a flicker of pain and…something else reflecting in the shift of brown and green.

“I…I think that is the nicest thing you have ever said to me,” she said quietly, eyes drifting down to her lap and away from him.

His gaze followed hers, but immediately shot back up, uncomfortable with how eager he wanted scan the subtle curve of her hips. Distractedly he picked at his food. Food could fill any void if eaten with enough vigor.

Beside him, Rey released a delightful snort; a great change from her somber attitude moments ago. “And—I can’t believe I am saying this—but you are _right_.”

“Of course I am,” he said with a hint of arrogance. He pulled the lettuce out of his burger for no other reason but to keep his hands busy.

“I did nothing wrong—”

“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far,” he interrupted hurriedly; he couldn’t let Rey think all her actions were justifiable because she morally did the right thing, even if it was a tad bit extreme. “You did egg professor’s car—”

She scoffed. “He said I needed to find a partner to take care of my mood swings. Though it was a bit more crude than—”

Ben chocked on his drink mid-sip, his wide eyes snapping to her. It was seriously never ending with this department; thank god, she left. “Then you did the fucking right thing. Did you file a harassment report?”

She nodded tiredly, stuffing more fries in her mouth. “Before I left, and I wasn’t the only one either.”

“Good,” he mumbled unable to find any other words in his vocabular to congratulate her actions.

A tense yet comfortable silence lapsed between the two.

Her gaze lingered on him, Ben feeling the heat of unspoken words on his skin. He kept his head down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her perk up. “Hey, there is a pool table, let’s play some billiards.”

 

* * *

 

Ben Solo was exceptionally awful at billiards.

And Rey found this delightful.

While stuffy, perturbed, and awful with words, Ben was not as terrible as she expected.

He was _worse_ , then _better_ if she were to accurately describe her experience with him.

“Best four out of seven,” he declared the moment she won the third game.

“I am pretty sure that doesn’t _exist_ , but since you are adamant,” she shrugged, pulling the colored balls from the holes nearest to her. He followed suit and grabbed the triangular tray back to the center of the game table. “It honestly isn’t that difficult if you aim correctly—”

“I am aiming correctly,” he replied tersely, dropping the last ball in place. “I just haven’t played since I was in college.”

Humming in mock understanding, Rey chalked the tip of her dowel. “Of course. I’ll remember next time to go easy on the _elderly_.”

“Whoa,” he held his hands up in surrender, “I am not that old. Just not social.”

“Same.”

His eyebrows scrunched together, his confused expression reminding her of a lost puppy. Her gut stirred at the thought of how adorable he looked—tired and confused.

“You aren’t social? I thought everyone your age liked going out. I mean I didn’t,” he rolled his eyes, “But I think we all came to the conclusion I am not the average case.”

She lifted the tray and lined up the white ball. Taking a deep breath, she bent over and eyeballed her potential shot. With a swift gesture, she hit her mark, three solid colors falling into holes.

Ben groaned, dropping his forehead to the top of his dowel. “Fuck.” He was definitely going to lose for the fourth time in a row.

“I am more of a homebody, and crowds make me queasy,” she explained without prompting. “Once had to bail out of a concert because I didn’t like the thought of other people accidentally grabbing on to me.”

Ben went up to the table, walking over to her side before bending slightly to hit his mark. Heat raced up her neck when he eyes dropped to his form—large, wide back and—nope, nope. She wasn’t going to think of that. Nope, not at all.

As casually she could, she stepped further away and towards the jukebox, under the pretenses she was looking at the song selection. Not completely checking out her road trip companions ass.

Luckily, Ben was completely unaware of her stare.

In fact, he seemed to be completely unaware of _most_ of her staring the entire drive.

Which was good.

At least that’s what the logical side of her brain tried to remind her.

Another grumbled curse fell from his lips when he missed his shot. Rey turned back to the table, a complacent smile on her lips.

“Concerts are not all that bad,” he commented as she surveyed the table. “Some are cool if you don’t go into pits or anything. Went to one with my dad when I was nineteen—”

“You mention Han a lot.”

His face fell.

Inwardly, she winced. She left her tact to be desired.

“He…he and I were close,” he answered simply, speaking fondly of his father. “Even after I didn’t pick my mom and Luke’s alma mater.”

“And what happened?”

He twirled his dowel from side to side before setting erect once more. “We grew apart…like _normal_ people.”

Rey refrained a biting remark. She hadn’t grown apart from her grandpa or from the Skywalker-Solos in her time at university. In fact in their separation they’d grown someone what closer…

Besides the fact she _didn’t_ tell them she was expelled—okay, maybe Ben had a point. Everyone naturally grew apart, but eventually came back together, right? After about a decade, Ben was finally coming back home; her assumption must be true. She simply hoped a decade of estrangement was not in the cards for her.

Stepping up to the table, she made her second shot, getting another point. Biting his lips together, Ben looked at the game pensively.

“I’m…going to lose again aren’t I?”

A chuckled escaped her, Rey slapping a hand over her mouth a moment later. A smirk tugged on his lips. Clearing her throat, she composed herself quickly, “I mean, I knew that going in, but—”

“Ha, ha, ha, sure,” he said as he walked over to his glass of water. He took a sip before peaking back at her. Hesitance lingered in his warm eyes.

Another thing she noticed; no matter how annoyed or upset or tired Ben became, his eyes remained a warm brown russet. During the car ride she may have insulted him and possibly badgered him endlessly, but she could not help but force him to somehow look back at her. She just wanted to see if her theory about their warmth was always true. _And it was_.

Setting the dowel back on the rack, silently ending their game, Ben glanced over at her. “Do you want to go for a drive?”

“Seriously? We’ve been in a car all day,” she reminded him cheekily. She bounded up to the rack, setting her dowel beside his.

He brushed his hair back, his dark locks flopping haphazardly from left to right. Her hand itched to right his hair. Instead she tucked her hands into her jean pockets, rocking back and forth on her heels. He crossed his arms over his chest, peering down at her defensively.

“I mean, it’s barely going to be nine and I am hungry again—”

“That’s usually what happens when you disregard basic human needs,” she quipped back, recalling how he was a man on a mission for the majority of the day.

Initially Ben’s determination was irritable; he was acting like a child and argued like a grumpy old man.

Then he almost fell asleep at the wheel and he _obviously_ did not remember it.

She asked him several times to drive, but quickly learned she needed to be wise when picking her battles with Ben. Driving was not an honorable or winnable battle in this case.

“And I don’t really want to hang out in a bar all night,” he finished crisply.

“Then where do you suggest we go?”

 

* * *

 

Side by side they craned their necks to look at the minimalistic red and white menu.

“The number two looks great; two patties, twice the protein,” Rey commented, squinting at the meal options listed. She tapped her chin, humming as she considered her options.

“But see number one is a classic—hamburger, fries, and a drink,” Ben rebutted. Quietly he sighed a tad-bit over dramatically, “The choices are simply too much.”

“Agree,” she muttered, mirroring his pose of arms crossed and chin held high.

The kid waiting at the register raised an eyebrow at the two. Leaning forward he glanced up at the menu and then back to Rey and Ben.

“You guys do know we only have three options, right? It’s _In-and-Out_.”

Ben cleared his throat, as Rey muffled her giggles into the back of her hand.

“We are aware,” he answered. Lightly, Rey nudged him forward by the elbow. He shared a soft smirk with her before stepping forward to order. “We’ll have two chocolate milkshakes and fries,” he asked, sobering up his grin.

The kid typed and totaled up their order, Ben paying him. They took a seat by the window where the two seater booths were lined up, and waited patiently for their food.

Under the table Ben’s leg bounced anxiously, hands clasped over the table. Rey sat opposite him, legs tucked under her, criss-cross.

“I haven’t been to an _In-and-Out_ in years,” he mumbled, wincing at the bright florescent lights. “I think the last time I went to one was when I quit my job—I tried to eat my weight in fries.” He shook his head, dropping his chin into the palm of his hand. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

“I went to one last week,” she remarked disinterestedly, drawing invisible circles on the table top. “Last week feels like a century ago…but maybe that is a good thing. ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder’, I think it is the same with memories and experiences.”

His head cocked to the side, “I…I agree with that assessment surprisingly enough.”

“I’m smart sometimes.”

“I never said you weren’t,” he assured her, his voice dragging out from exhaustion. “I think…I think you are smarter than I ever gave you credit for.”

“Uh,” she scratched her arm, unsure of how to reply, “thanks, I guess.”

Through her eyelashes she peaked at him, finding his focus on the passing cars. She kind of hated how he could be doing absolutely nothing and still be remarkably intriguing…not necessarily gorgeous, but enticingly captivating.

Ever since Rey met Ben when she was five, she was fascinated by him. He was tall and gangly and wore too much black. Frowns and scowls graced his features unforgivingly, his downtrodden mood radiating powerfully in every gesture and word from his mouth. Han and Leia said he was going through a ‘phase’ and apologized whenever he left the room. But Rey didn’t mind; she liked how he kept to himself and didn’t try to be like anyone else she knew.

And he was _kind of_ nice to her. Nicer to her than he was to most. A win in her book.

Then he had to go fuck it up by essentially cutting himself off from his family and never coming home after his second year of college.

She wanted to hate him, and tried her very best to…but that didn’t stop her from gazing longingly at the pictures of him scattered around Han and Leia’s house. Or possibly nicking one from the shelf in the hall of his high school senior photos.

Okay…maybe she had a teensy-tiny school girl crush on him.

But that did not excuse anything.

“How…how did you figure what you were going to do after you quit your job?” She asked, both curious and wanting to fill the silence. If they sat there together any longer, Rey would be ogling at him and Ben would have noticed at that point.

“Uh…” he scratched his jaw, then crossed his arms on the table top. He shifted to sit more in the seat, looking a little too large for the booth. “I just did the first thing I knew how to do well which was write and then that’s it.” He scratched his neck, peering up at her sheepishly. “I wish I had better advice or had something to make you feel better…but that’s all I got.”

“No…no that works,” she stuttered a bit, tucking on a loose strand of her hair. “There isn’t a manual to this unfortunately.”

She chuckled a bit, hoping she didn’t sound as pathetic as she felt.

“I quit my job because my firm wanted to falsely incriminate my mother during her run for office.”

Rey froze, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. All day he alluded he left the firm on his own terms and that he wasn’t as terrible as she made him out to be. She tried her best to believe him, but she witnessed the ramifications of his estrangement. For some reason, maybe childish ignorance, she believed him to be living the high life and walking without care as to how he abandoned his family.

The somber and phantom fear possessing his eyes did little to support her assumptions.

“My boss, Snoke decided to run for governor because he had several political ties and for his own selfish ambitions—I can’t even remember them because I tried my best to ignore his rants,” he shook his head, exhaling deeply. “But he wanted to hurt my mother’s status and—”

“Why are you telling me this?” she interjected, stunned by his transparency.

“Thought someone should know…might as well be _you_.”

His shoulders slouched a bit, relaxation settling over his perturbed features.

Just then their number was called out. Rey shot out of her seat and took the lead. She picked up their to-go bag and headed to the exit where Ben was waiting.

As they walked over to the car, she handed him his milkshake.

“Thanks,” she uttered softly. He quirked an eyebrow at her ounce of gratitude. “For telling me…you have your reasons, even if no one understands them.”

Instead of speaking, Ben opened her door, letting Rey slide into the passenger seat. He came around the other side and entered the car. Quickly, he got the car started and the heater going. Yet he did not start driving, allowing them to sit comfortably for a moment.

From the window shield, Rey saw a couple of stores in the shopping center begin to close down for the night. Soft Christmas lights remained alight as the entire buildings shut down, the garland and trees glowing as a beacon for those roaming at night.

A shiver coursed through her bones as a steady blow of wind hit the car as it continued to heat up. Quickly he reached into the backseat, pulling out a fleece checkered throw blanket. He handed it to her with a self-conscious smile. She received it without another word but slight nod of acknowledgement.

“What’s your favorite Christmas song?” Ben asked after a few minutes, half his milkshake gone. “Someone like you has to have one.”

“Someone like _me_?” she implored, highly bemused by the comment.

“Someone sentimental,” he said quietly, shaking his shoulders to adjust his gray cardigan sweater.

Pursing her lips, she considered the array of Christmas songs in her arsenal before coming to a sure conclusion.

“War is Over.”

A bark of laughter reverberated through him, joyful and deep, his head thrown back. His carefree grin brightened his entire being, Rey blinded by the lightness. A second later he caught his breath, giving her a apologetic glance, his head then tucking away to side as the tip of his ears redden.

Damn, she was screwed.

“Wh—what is so funny?” she said between chuckles, not sure if she was laughing from confusion or if his attitude infected her own.

Furiously he shook his head, peaking at her almost shyly.

“It—it’s just so _fitting_. I mean, you lead a protest and are a philosophy major. Liking a song about _war ending_ …very Rey,” he explained hastily, setting his empty drink in a cupholder.

She scoffed, sitting upright from the angled passenger seat. “I beg your pardon—you do not know me well enough to make that assumption!” She fought off impending giggles, her mouth snapping shut in defiance.

He raised a hand up in objection, turning as best he could on his side to face her. “Ah, to the contrary I do know you well enough. I have spent over twelve hours with you, I think I deserve some type of medal of knowledge—”

“Shove off!” she cried out, unable to hold back a bright smile. “Sure, it’s cliché to like that song, but I love John Lennon—”

“Of course you do!” he shot back with a good-natured shrug.

“—and I think it’s sweet to hear the children’s chorus,” she finished off loudly, speaking over Ben’s mumbles and grumbles.

He crumpled up the empty _In-and-Out bag_ , tossing it in the back to throw away later. “If I liked Christmas music I wouldn’t have picked a song about communism—”

“You say you _don’t_ like Christmas music, but I don’t believe you,” Rey insisted with unadulterated confidence, fluffing out the blanket on her lap.

Ben huffed, his grin from earlier still greeting her with ever glance. “But I _do_.”

“Come on you have to have at least one favorite Christmas song,” Rey goaded, teasing him. “Even if it is that lame hippopotamus song—”

“Fuck no.” Ben groaned. “That one is at the top of the hate list.”

“You have a hate list.” She raised an eyebrow, not quite believing he would but it would not be the that far fetched of him.

“It’s a figure of speech.”

Her reactionless response sprung him into action. “Fine, I have one.” He snatched her phone, still connected to the car’s Bluetooth despite leaving the car several times. He typed in the title and scanned for the song before tapping on his selection.

 

* * *

 

Piano keys came through the speakers, a slow melancholy tune filling the confines of the car. The rough yet melodious voice of Dan Fogelberg was both haunting and nostalgic despite neither being old enough to be alive during the song’s release.

In the driver’s seat, Ben hummed along quietly, for once completely relaxing in her presence. The parking lot was empty in the late hour, the clock blinking a neon green half past ten in the evening.

A prickling sting behind his eyes remined Ben why he liked the Christmas song—there was something genuine about the story, of the one who got away. Ben had never experienced a lost love or a splendid romance, he understood intense loneliness.

A heavy gasp of a sob brought him from his thoughts.

Beside him, soft tears cascaded down Rey’s solemn yet serene face. Multiple tear tracks lined the swell of her cheek to her chin, though she did not make a move to wipe the remains away.

Not sparing him a glance, she asked, “Can you play it again?”

“Sure.”

The tune lingered in the air, Ben allowing the song, _Same Old Lange Syne,_ to play on loop.

_We drank a toast to innocence_

_We drank a toast to now_

_We tried to reach beyond the emptiness_

_But neither one knew how_

His fingers itched to change the song the longer they listened, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever before her. But they listened again, and again because she asked. He was finding it difficult to deny her simply pleasures despite his initially hostility towards her.

“I use to have a crush on you,” she croaked as the song began to play for a forth time.

“ _What_?”

Ben’s face pinched, puzzled by the sudden confession.

“I like you—I mean _liked_ you,” she huffed, stumbling over her words. “When I was a kid,” she then stressed, nose scrunching up in thought, “It’s kind of why I hate you—well, I guess _hated_ you—”

“You are throwing a lot of emotions right now; I don’t know what to do with them,” Ben said bluntly, blinking wide-eyed at her.

“I’m trying to apologize to you, twat. Let me finish,” she said, her voice edging into a flushed growl. “That song is beautiful and it just remined me that you are actually a decent person despite, well _everything_.”

He swallowed tightly, unsure of how to navigate the full force of Rey’s being, “That I hurt your family—”

“They are not my family. They are your family,” she corrected sharply.

Ben shook his head, not taking her insecurities of her belonging any longer. “Sure they are mine by blood. But they are yours by bond,” he leaned over the middle console, peering down at her. “I hated you growing up.”

“That’s harsh considering I am ten years younger,” she commented more from observation than judgement.

“Emotions are emotions,” he used as an excuse, “But not the point—I’m trying to say I thought I hated you because you were everything my family wanted, but…” She looked up at him, patiently waiting for him to find the right words. Dear, god—he needed the _right_ words for once. “But I don’t think I ever really hated you because you are just like me—trying to do your best, trying to make them proud even though it feels futile—”

“And your point?” Rey asked, lost on where he was going with his ramblings.

Taking a deep breath, he gently rested his hand on hers. “I’m saying when you tell them all the shit that happened, I’ll be in your corner. I’ll stand by your side—yo—you won’t have to be alone,” his face crumbled as he stuttered more, over come with nervousness he didn’t know he possessed until it came to her. “What I am trying to say is you are not alone.”

Her hazel eyes welled, panic swelling in Ben’s chest.

Maybe that was the _wrong_ thing to say—the really, really, really wrong thing to say—

All spiraling thoughts were cut off as a cold, soft pair of lips pressed firmly against his own.

She pulled away at lightening speed, though only a hair away. He could still smell the sent of her shampoo in their proximity and…

She… she kissed him.

She _kissed_ him.

“Uh,” Ben uttered unintelligently, mouth a gap.

“I—” Words ceased in the back of her throat. Blinking furiously, she tucked her hair behind her ear, though her gaze remained locked with his. “You’re not alone either,” she blurted out breathlessly.

“Oh.”

Apparently he was only capable of monosyllables.

Neither moved or spoke for a moment; until one of them, Ben wasn’t too sure _who_ at this point, leaned forward and reclaimed the other’s lips. While initially tentative in his pressure and hold, Rey did not hold back— _at all_. Open mouth and reckless abandon in her embrace, but could not help but come to her mercy. She pulled him impossibly close and when that wasn’t enough, she clumsily climbed over the middle compartment and into his lap. _Crowded_ did not begin to describe their position, Ben pressed uncomfortably into the seat and Rey’s left knee digging into his rib. After some haze-brain shifting, he was able to grasp her in his arms, his body naturally seeking hers in their closeness. Heat and tantalizing shivers danced up his spine as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her lips skimmed away from his, peppering along her jaw and down the length of his neck.

Involuntarily, his hips rolled into hers as she continued. Groaning, his head dropped into her shoulder, his nose brushing against the warm skin he desired to touch earlier. Inhaling deeply, he brought her closer, falling deeper into her essence.

He definitely should _not_ be doing this, all things considering, but her withering sigh caused all doubts to cease. Lifting his head up, he nudged his mouth against hers, she following his lead wholeheartedly.

 

* * *

 

“Um, yeah,” Ben gulped, putting the car out of park and into drive. Shakily, he raked a hand through his mussed hair.

Sitting back in the passenger seat, Rey smirked at his bashful awkwardness. Tilting her gaze down, she muffled her growing giggles behind her hand. Her loose hair fell into her face, while strands stuck to her damp neck.

“That—that happened,” he murmured, slowly driving out of the parking lot. Reaching forward, he lowered the temperature in the car, now uncomfortably warm considering their previous activities moments ago.

“Yup,” she popped, “Dare I say, I’m glad it did.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes briefly shifting to her before focusing back on the road. “Same,” he agreed without hesitance.

With shy smiles and stolen glances, Ben drove them back to the hotel. Once inside and in their room, both went about their normal night routines.

Rey gathered her belongings and rushed for a shower, while Ben went about charging his laptop and phone. Nights were usually designated for writing, brooding, and long contemplative silences. Average for an isolated writer like himself…but the thought of looking at his latest manuscript or writing to clear his mind did not feel appealing.

Removing himself from the moment in anyway felt like blasphemy. For most of his life Ben liked to live separate from feeling _everything_ in the moment because it was too much. It was too much to feel his parents fluctuating relationship, too much to feel the pull to please his professors and mentors, too much to feel his world momentarily crash as he quit his job and pursued a child’s dream. His decisions were rash but logical, and rarely for himself.

He could name three decisions in the last ten years off the top of his head that were for himself. His university, quitting his job and pursuing writing, and the girl who was in the hotel bathroom getting ready for bed.

Moments later, she popped out of the bathroom, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and blue flannel pajama pants. Nodding to her, he grabbed his own change of clothes and went in for his turn.

Hurriedly, he stripped and washed his body, barely rising his hair under the cool water. A young, foolish part of him thought she’d disappear if he took longer than five minutes in the shower. Shutting off the water, he got out, dried, and dressed in a flourish, Ben almost tripped over his own two feet.

Catching himself, he took a deep breath.

She already had sex with him and he was her only ride back into town—it wasn’t like she was going to _leave_. In fact, he had nothing to be scared of, if he was being completely honest. She liked him, he liked he despite all the odds and denial…but going back out there and seeing her felt… _too much_.

Biting his lips together, he opened the bathroom door to a dark room. His eyes drifted to her curled up form on his self-proclaimed bed, the poor quality bedside lamp casting a soft light against her. Chestnut locks fanned out on the pillow, her eyes drooping as slumber reeled her into it’s welcoming warmth.

Air caught in his lungs. Maybe it was worth it to feel too much when Rey was the cause.

Cautious to not make too much noise, Ben walked to the bedside table and shut off the lamp. Gently, he climbed into the empty side of the bed, half expecting her to kick him out; they had two beds after all.

No noises or protests came at his presence. Apparently, Rey became dead to the world when she slept. Sinking deeper into the bed, his head finally resting on a pillow, Ben realized he was completely and utterly _tired_. Only exhaustion settled wearily in his bones, reminding him of his three hours of sleep the previous night.

As he closed his eyes, he felt a hand grasp his own, squeezing once before he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

“What if I decided to be a vagabond instead of finishing school?” Rey announced, kicking her battered white Converse clad feet up on the dashboard.

Roughly fifteen more miles were left on their trip, the two taking off a little after seven in the morning. With a drive a little less than five hours, the new goal was to get in by three in the afternoon. Which gave room for leeway…like convincing Ben to pull off to the side of the road to make-out.

She received an eyeroll and a stern ‘no,’ before stopping for an early lunch break half an hour later and doing the very thing he said ‘no’ to in the backseat of his car.

Overall, they were still making better time than they were the previous day.

“I can travel the world and see all the great wonders—”

“Where would you get the money to travel?” Ben interjected, sharing a knowing look with her. “Last time I heard, you are broker than broke.”

“Fair point.” She gazed out the window, watching the pine trees and days’ old melting snow blend together as Ben drove. “I just…I feel like a wasted time there. Nearly four years.”

“I don’t think you did,” he contradicted, a thoughtful frown gracing his long face. “You learned— learned what you want and who you are…I’d say just pick a place and finish your last semester. Might as well get your degree while you still can.”

While blunt, Ben’s words eased any lingering anxiety she held close. Another wave of relief washed over her once she remember his promise the previous night; he’d stick by her side as she explained what happened, be her silent supporter as she battled her own needless shame and possible disappointment from her grandfather and his friends. To other’s it might not seem much to have a guy who was barely coming home after years of separation be their back-up, but to Rey it meant the world to simply have someone understand. It meant quite validation to know she was not alone.

Sitting up, she dropped her feet back down, smiling unabashedly at Ben. “See? You do give good advice.”

“Eh,” was all he uttered with a shrug. “I think I only give decent advice when it’s you.”

Deciding to be bold, Rey asked the question bouncing around in her mind since yesterday afternoon. “Are there any decent schools in the bay area or near Monterey?”

He blinked, surprised and then flicking back to a shy boy. “You—you’d want to move there?”

“It’s a thought,” was all she said, but her hope did not waver from her voice.

The corner of his mouth twitched, Rey seeing a phantom smile before it disappeared altogether. Her chest swelled; that was enough of an answer for her.

Grabbing her phone, she found a soft Christmas playlist, satisfied to not find anything overplayed listed. Thankfully, Ben did not protest, instead humming along to a couple of the songs.

Halfway through the hum of some indie Christmas song Rey did not know but Ben knew by heart, he turned down the familiar lane of their neighborhood. From her seat, she noticed his shoulders tense as the houses passed, as though mentally counting the spaces and mailboxes until his childhood home came up.

He slowed to a stop in front of the white and blue two-story house, shutting off the car once he parked. Mounds of melting snow lingered around the stoop of the house and ice dripped from frozen branches, Rey unable to decipher if it was due to rain or slightly higher temperatures.

Unlocking the car, she opened the door. Stepping out, her feet met slush, Rey immediately regretting wearing her Converse—Southern California ruined her weather expectations and planning.

Glancing behind her, Rey’s façade of joy dimmed. Inside the car, Ben did not move to get out, frozen as he stared at the house. Quickly he averted his gaze, his grip on the wheel tightening.

She slammed the passenger door shut, Ben flinching at the sound. Turning on her heel, she marched around the front of the car and flung open the driver’s door.

Ben peered up at her, squinting from the bright afternoon sun.

Wordlessly, Rey held her hand out to him.

He didn’t move for a moment, a moment long enough for a spike of panic to strike her chest.

Then out of the corner of her eye she saw him pull the key out of the ignition. Standing from his seat, he shut the door behind him. His face and neck area began to redden from the cool air, his beanie doing little to cover his ears.

His warm eyes never left her own as his hand grasped hers, following _her_ lead.

Silently, the two left the car and walked to the front door together. Just as they reached the steps to the porch, Ben pulled her back a step.

“Wha—”

“I just want to let you know—whatever happens today or the next day, I _feel_ it too.” His voice was hushed, only traveling in the small space between them. “And I—I want whatever this is—”

“Okay,” she grinned back brightly, squeezing his hand.

“‘Okay’?” He repeated, a little befuddled. “I just—I just said,” his mouth opened and closed several times, a series of emotions flashing across his face as he struggled to articulate his thought and emotions. “I just—I just confessed _feelings_ ,” he stressed sharply, head hunching down to maintain better eye contact with her, “for _you_.”

“I’m aware,” she said, “And I said ‘okay’.”

“You can’t just say ‘okay’ and expect me to know what that means,” Ben fought back, “Do you like that? Do you want this to be a thing, because I want it to be a _thing_ —”

She scoffed, refraining an indignant eye roll. “Well, of course I want it to be a thing, or else I wouldn’t have said ‘okay’.”

“But is ‘okay’ a sufficient answer?” he shot back as heatedly, russet eyes sharpening.

“I think it is a sufficient answer—it is the general term used when someone is in agreement, Ben.”

“ _Okay_ then.” He then stood up taller, towering over her. Sitting beside him for the majority of the last twenty-four hours caused her to forget how incredibly massive Ben was in comparison to her. She’d be a liar if she didn’t acknowledge how his mere height caused a girlish thrill in her soul. “See how I used it there, it was a filler word—you responded back with a filler word, Rey.”

“Pah, please.” She shook her head, eyebrows pinching together stoutly. “The term has been sorely misused and—”

“ _Leia! They’re here_!”

Ben and Rey whipped their heads to the porch, shocked still at the new voice.

Standing by the front door was Luke Skywalker, grinning ear to ear with a knowing gleam in his aged eyes.

“I told her you two would either kill each other or worse, _like_ each other,” he said with a chuckle. He waved them over, holding the door open. “Come on in, it’s freezing out here. We want to hear all about your little trip and how everything is going.”

Rey and Ben shared a glanced, mirror images of hope and fear reflecting back at each other. Squeezing her hand once, Ben let go. She grinned back and nodded. Better to keep their new development to themselves; after all it was nice to have something just _theirs_.

Side by side, they walked up the steps of house ready to face both their past and future mistakes together.

**Author's Note:**

> Awwweee. It has been a delight to write this oneshot, and a nice kickoff to the holiday season! :D
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated; I love discussing the fic with my readers!
> 
> Come say hi to me on on Twitter at @intpslytherin97 or on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/intp-slytherin97)


End file.
